Trust me, this just wasn't her day
by umbrella-stand
Summary: have you ever had one of those days where it all goes wrong the minute you swing your legs out of bed. Well imagine one of those but with the magcal delights of Harry Potters magical world thrown in. And you thought you had it bad....
1. Chapter 1

((ok guys I hope you enjoy what I have so far If I get a positive response I shall continue I apologise for the lack of dialogue in this opening chapter))

Someone looking at Miss. Furrow from a distance would be able to tell she was tall, with darkish skin and was carrying a violently green bag, if said person was to move closer, perhaps a few feet or so they would see that she had a few freckles dotted about her face and that her mop of blonde hair sat high on the top of her head, swept well out of her face. On this particular morning however, it would be wise for any inquisitive passer by to not venture any further for it was quite plain to see that she was in a foul mood. Stewing so deeply in her anger was she that she did not notice the way she hunched herself forward, as if battling a gale, or the way her feet made a definite clatter against the marble floor of the station.

To even begin to understand why this young lady was in such a dodgy mood you would have to shove your head into a bowl of pensive and look back a few hours, now because there is only one such supply of pensive currently registered in Britan (Dumbledore's study, the small cupboard at the back you can't miss it really) you'll just have to put up with me telling you why on earth Matilda Furrow was so miserable.

Matilda wasn't a morning person; in fact it was her worst time of the day. Rays of light streaming past the blind? The hum of sweet birdsong drifting in from the street below :NOJUSTSHURRUPNBOGOFF! was the normal reply to such rude awakenings.

It didn't help of course that Matilda, not having a strong aptitude for charms , hadn't quite managed to work out the fault in her alarm clock, that fault being that it would ceremoniously burst into violent flame whenever it felt like it - normally just when Matilda was due to get up- so it was no surprise for her to wake up to a room full of black smoke.

"murrrr" she croaked as she stumbled past her bed sheets and flung open the window. "effing clock" she reached for her wand , silently conjuring a steady stream of water immediately dousing the fire but leaving a rather damp smell about the place, a bit like a swamp or the inside of a P.E changing room.

Blindly reaching for her chudley cannons dressing gown she flung open the door, jumped down the stairs (yes I actually mean jumped, 3 at a time ...old habits are hard to break..) and entered the kitchen with a satisfying bang. Here Matilda was greeted with a rath-

"TILLY COLDREN CAKE?" And there as usual was her younger and most definitely not wiser brother Arty. Sparkling teeth perfectly quaffed hair and annoyingly chiselled features, he could charm the pants off any unsuspecting young witch from a good 10 feet and he knew it. Matilda had expected him to be sitting there. She had not however expected there to be a beautiful blonde girl to be perched on his knee, crumpet in hand giggling away as Arty squeezed her waist, the girl yet to be introduced was wearing a particularly short skirt and a tight top. Matilda also noticed she had rather large knockers, but wisely decided not to mention it.


	2. Chapter 2

"Ah Tilly I would like you to meet Charlotte, we met at the Gringots fundraiser last night – I used all the floo powder getting us both home-isn't she rather lovely?" he squeezed her even more tightly and she in turn giggled again. "Say hi to Tilly, Charlotte".

"it's Charlene actually"

"oh. Yes. Ha Ha just a little joke of mine Charlo..ene" Arty replied just saving himself.

"hello Tilly" she said flashing a smile and flicking her hair …another giggle escaped.

Matilda, as she preferred to be known just stood there. A disapproving frown crept over her face, she shook it off and stared at the pancake stain on the ceiling, struggling to rationalise her brother's actions.

"hello Charlene" said Tilly in a level tone. Arty didn't bring his usual gaggle of hangers on home with him…he must have bewitched her she concluded.

"WAIT" Matilda roared.

"wot" Arty looked up in dreamy puzzlement.

"My floo powder"

"yes great stuff I used all of it I did isn't that right Cha.."

"DO NOT EVEN MENTION THAT HUSSY"

"What did you call her?" Arty snapped out of his gaze, wands drawn on both sides the two siblings approached each other across the small kitchen.

'Arty SIT I'm getting bored' said Charlene to her new puppy.

"Right you are sugar pie" He promptly sat down and began his new favourite hobby of adoring Charlene.

This obedience shocked Matilda who was half way across the table from rage into moderate anger.

"Charlene's half Veela, aren't you Charlene" cooed Arty (a switch of understanding flicked on in Tilly's head as she primly removed herself from the tabletop)

"How am I going to get to work how HOW HOWWWWW?" (Matilda's voice went up an octave after the second how)

"That's right didumms" cooed Charlene patting the unfortunate head of Matilda's infatuated brother. "ohh Arty" the smile flashed once more. "My feet ache do run a bath". Arty stood up so fast he tripped over himself.

"At once my dear heart" drawing him self up to full height he dashed out of the room, a flash of purple dress robes.

"How…me…work…floo" Matilda was now pacing, her fingers pressed to her temples.

"oh and remember the camomile , there's a pet"

"Camomile yes my sugary dumpling coming" Arty's words echoed from the upstairs bathroom.

Charlene, in full control of the proceedings leant back on the chair and quite rudely put her feet on the table, she looked back at Matilda, who was unchanged from her position in the middle of the room, her face a charming shade of tomato.

"Charles the peeler" Matilda snapped "or whatever you're called, I'll be back at the end of the day, which gives you 8 hours to otherwise enslave my twat headed son of a horntail newt featured brother before I return and personally remove your backside from these premises… Do we have an understanding?"

Charlene shrugged "fair enough"

"Make sure you bloody well go get me more floo powder don't think this isn't your fault" Matilda peered at her visitor. Charlene quietly removed her feet from the table.

"good now pass me a crumpet I'm starving", Matilda swept a pile of documents off a nearby stool and sat down. Looking at the grandfather clock she reckoned she had about 50seconds to scoff the crumpet and wizard her robes on, considering the walk she had ahead of her…it was good luck in fact her pyromaniac timepiece had decided to commit suicide at the time it did – she was a full hour early.

Swallowing breakfast in one she got up to leave. Turning to Charlene she whispered

"Oh and make sure he dusts on top of the wardrobes they're due a good clean", receiving a hearty grin and a wink she rushed into the hall, simultaneously magicing on her work robes and grabbing her handbag.

A loud slam signified that Miss Matilda Furrow had indeed left the building, still in her Chudley cannons dressing gown….did I mention she was bad at charms.


	3. Chapter 3

Striding down the street Matilda gave herself a few seconds to look at her watch before once again picking up her already fast pace. The quiet suburban street she was walking down had not yet woken up and apart from continuous the hum of a nearby milk float (though she of course didn't have a name for it) she was completely alone.

Reaching the corner of the leafy street she looked down at her reflection in the curb side puddle, through its rainbow stained oily surface she took the first glance at her reflection and shivering pulled her dressing gown closer too her frame .

"oh heck" she swore as she realised she indeed was wearing her dressing gown and best of all she was wearing it slap bang in the middle of muggle suburbia. Before she could rectify her error the puddle she was looking in began to ripple and tremor as, in the distance, a deep rumbling sound pierced the chill of the morning. The noise, that can only really be described as to sounding like a screaming cat on a motorbike began to get louder and apparently closer.

Turning her head into the direction of the noise Matilda instinctively took a large step backwards- pressing herself into the hedgerow behind her. As the noise grew unbearably loud two streaming beams of light broke straight into her vision. Her whole body began to shake as the vibrations across the pavement became unbearably strong and frequent. Shielding her eyes against the glow and drawing her wand she gave a cry and with blurred vision peered through her fingers.

"Am I in h-h-heaven" she trembled, barely a whisper. Fully removing her hand from her face she stared in wonderment at the light that had frozen just inches in front of her face. Still in shock she somehow managed to incline her head upwards, where she was greeted with what appeared to be… well, a head. Yes A very small and puzzlingly -shrunken head.

Matilda snapped out of it pretty quickly after that and extended her hand forwards, only for it to be met by glass. She then quickly decided that she was indeed completely insane and that at the next convenient moment she would pack her bags and calmly checks herself into St.Mundigo's psychiatric unit.

"krikey brudda we almost 'it 'er man, what choo playing at fool?" exclaimed the leathery head, apparently animated. "da insurance aint gonna covva scraaaapes like that man for sure she was on da pavement noo joke"

"You alright miss: a witch in need of a lift?" said a smaller more human voice.

Wondering where the voice was coming from Matilda took two steps back and looked again, the colour returned to her cheeks and she closed her open mouth, inhaling as she did so. Smiling she realised what she'd run into, or rather what had run into her the knight bus, in all its multi storied purple glory.

"Merlin's beard it looks like we've gone and picked up another loon, this ones in her Pyjama's still" said the same voice as before.

"Heck do we have to pick her up!" said a more gruff voice

"Of course that's our motto my lad, do I need to repeat it?"

"Well I'd rather you-"

"To serve all witches and wizards in need of transportation and a good kip and..."

"Right-O! I'll just fetch her"said the second voice more hurriedly this time.

Matilda, who seemed to have found her voice, began to protest but as the pair of hands grabbed her and hauled her aboard she really didn't have time too say much. Blinking into the candlelit interior she looked at the buses other occupants. Without wanting to judge them on their appearance alone ,she quickly concluded they were all barking mad.


End file.
